Bloody Hell
by Cynicism and Happiness
Summary: Harry and his friends are grown up. Draco is a Death Eater on the run. Narcissa comes into play. And Voldemort...just read the story. Continuation of my series.
1. Chapter 1: Continuing

**Disclaimer:** I do not and WILL NEVER own Harry Potter. For goodness' sake, this drives me insane sometimes.

**Chapter 1: A Continuation of our Characters in their Love Lives**

Ron, Hermione, and Harry's class finally graduated. Harry decided to go search for Voldemort and defeat him later, when the Ministry was more competent.

Even when Harry had left the school, he still found time for Ginny. He just couldn't help it. As much as he didn't want to get her killed, he found ways around it. So it was okay. Not that Ginny had been willing to give him up either.

Another year passed, and Ginny graduated with her class.

Neville was depressed. Susan did not seem to be the right person for him. They were good friends—just not good as boyfriend and girlfriend. She wasn't extremely exciting; she was nice—he just didn't feel right about her.

Ginny pulled an Emma Woodhouse.

Just in case you are not aware, reader, Emma Woodhouse is the main character of Jane Austin's book, Emma (no kidding). Emma has a peculiar propensity to "make matches," as she puts it. In other words, she sets up who she thinks is right for each other and they end up married.

So Ginny set up someone a little more exciting for Neville—can you guess? Probably not.

Neville had come to Ginny for advice (not a good idea) looking upset. He told her everything, ending with, "Susan is just not that exciting!"

So Ginny thought and thought. And thought and thought and thought.

Who was exciting, and strange, a little crazy, but a good person?

It hit her within two minutes. _How did I not think of this immediately? Luna Lovegood of course! God, I am stupid!_

Luna Lovegood.

Ginny set them up (I won't bother you with the details; you'll get bored) and within a month, they were going out.

Luna was interesting. She seemed as though she was not making fun of her odd views on things when she told them in great earnest to Neville. She actually believed whatever rubbish she was saying.

"The victims of You-Know-Who have come back as ghosts, do you know?"

"Erm, no, I didn't, as a matter of fact."

"Well, anyway, they're uprising against their killer and first poisoned him with enough poison to kill an elephant. And he's not dead!"

"Really? I—"

"Oh yes. And when he woke up, they blasted him against a wall with his own wand!"

"How the heck did they get a hold of a wand?"

"And then they tied him up with chains and threw him into a frozen lake, and he came back?"

"Where on earth did you hear this?"

"People heard the ghosts and saw chains, and _his_ face."

"Whatever."

Luna made no sense sometimes. Her latest piece of news was the next addition to the Rotfang Conspiracy: The Salmonella Scene.

Through the Cruciatus Curse and tapeworms, some traitors inside the Ministry (including Aurors) were planning to bring down the Ministry's Defense Department by slowly poisoning each member.

Neville was fun to entertain. Luna loved the bewildered expressions on his face when she told him the latest news she'd heard. _It's good to know you are entertaining people and making them aware of the world around them. _

Hermione and Ron continued to date. Ron actually learned what _not _to do on a date, such as not wearing small maroon sweaters, or high-heeled cowboy boots—and definitely NOT applying every hair-care product known to humankind to his hair. Bad idea.

Hermione loved his "spirit" shall we say; Ron liked Hermione (mainly how she looked).

Draco thought of returning to the UK. Voldemort was in New York and was tailing him (though not doing a very good job of it, not surprising considering the fact that he was getting very, VERY old).

With Parvati and his mother, he formed a Portkey. Right into the Ministry of Magic…


	2. Chapter 2: Just Dropping in

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, but I _do_ own this fanfic, so HA! I wonder, as do many others, does J.K. Rowling get ideas off of FF? Maybe not. Probably not.

**Chapter 2: Just Dropping In**

Draco, Narcissa, and Parvati landed with a huge thud in Harry's office in the Ministry. Oh, I didn't tell you? Excuse me, reader; let's go back a little.

Well, let's see, Draco charmed a Budweiser can that he found on the road into a Portkey, that accidentally transported Narcissa, Parvati, and himself into the Ministry of Magic when he intended them to land in Malfoy Manor (Draco was never good at Portkeys).

And in England…

Rufus Scrimgeour literally groveled at Harry's feet so Harry would let him hire Harry to be put in charge of the entire Defense department. The Ministry was made aware that the only person who could kill Voldemort was Harry, and it didn't hurt that Harry came top in his class at DADA, with an even better N.E.W.T. score than Hermione's (Hermione came top in everything else).

The Ministry was also aware of Hermione's Defense group, the DA, which had been led by Harry. The Defense at the Ministry was not amazing, and Harry would be a good asset for defense.

So Harry consented, and he was made into the head of Ministry Defense.

To Ron's surprise, Professor McGonagall had recommended him for Foreign Relations. Ron supposed that dating Hermione made him a much more tactful person. So Ron tried to make contacts at work, and was doing well, apart from his first attempt at making contacts ended up with him swearing badly at a Chinese wizard, who didn't understand much of what Ron was saying, and vice versa.

Hermione was also recommended for Foreign Relations, but decided to form her own department, which did fairly well: the Relations Between Magical Creatures and Wizards, Both Malevolent and Munificent Department. Hermione liked long names, for some reason. She kept promoting house-elf representation and…

Dobby became the RBMCWBMMD's first house-elf representative, as well as a cook at Hogwarts School.

Harry decided to reform the entire Ministry's Defense and constructed a method similar to the one he had used in the DA: teach each curse slowly, and practice. It was very simple.

Harry was thinking about what he would do for the next lesson. He'd just taught the wizards and witches Shield Charms, and it went fairly well, except when Phaeton Jones sent Ron crashing against the wall with a rather enthusiastic charm.

Well, when one is experiencing a little quiet and rest, it is extremely shocking to suddenly see three people land rather messily on the floor with a loud, LOUD crash, holding a beer can and causing the office to shake. Yes, Draco, Narcissa, and Parvati landed with a huge thud in Harry's office in the Ministry.

Harry jumped and fell off his chair.

"Ow, what the…"

Draco got up and grinned. "Hey, Harry. Funny seeing you here. Are you waiting for someone?"

"I _work_ here. I'm the head of Ministry Defense."

"Really? Well, I'm not surprised seeing as you passed top in seventh year."

Parvati got up from the floor. Narcissa was unconscious.

"Hi Harry. Wow, cool office. So, you're doing Defense?"

"Um hm."

"Like the DA? I missed that."

"You both can join; we're lacking in talent and people. Draco, what's your mum doing here? Come to that—WHAT ARE YOU ALL DOING IN MY OFFICE!"

Draco grinned. "Ahem, about that, well…" He explained all the circumstances with Voldemort.

Harry was irritated. "He's in New York and you didn't send me a letter? We're looking for him at the moment, dimwit! Everyone wants to know where he is! Stupid dingbat."

"Well _sorry_."

"Good thing you're telling me now, when I can't find anyone…" Harry called down Hedwig, scribbled on five pieces of parchment, and ordered Hedwig to deliver them to Lupin, McGonagall, Ginny (who worked under Harry), and various members of the Order of the Phoenix.

"Hmpf."

"Is your mum going to be okay?"

"Oh, her?" Narcissa still lay unconscious on the floor. "She'll be fine—eventually, I'm sure."

He bent over and yelled at Narcissa. "MOOOOOOTHEEEEERRRRRRRRRR!"

Narcissa jerked up. "What? What? What happened when? Wait—why are we in the Ministry? And where's New York?" She glared at Harry and his scar. "What's _he_ doing here? Hmm?"

Narcissa still hated Harry with a passion for landing her husband, Lucius Malfoy, in Azkaban. And Draco had never told her how they'd become friends in the Muggle class, knowing what her reaction would be. He actually did a good job of concealing it for a few years. But now was not a good time. Even though Narcissa was mad enough at Draco for dating a former Gryffindor.

"It's okay, Mum, Harry's fine."

"Draco, darling," Narcissa attempted to reason with her son. "This is _Harry Potter_. It's because of him that your father is in jail."

"No—it's okay, seriously. He's my friend."

Narcissa gasped in shock. 'Friend?" she asked in a horrified whisper. "_Friend? The half-blood Potter is your friend?_"

"Well, Mother, you see…"

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS! YOU'VE BETRAYED YOUR FATHER, BECOMING THE FRIEND OF THE BOY WHO HAS SENT HIM TO AZKABAN, YOU IDIOT!"

"Mother!"

"Don't 'Mother' me, Draco Abraxas Malfoy!"

Thoughts were running through Draco's head as Narcissa vented her spleen upon him.

_Oh no. She used the middle name. _

"…Completely irresponsible and inconsiderate. I thought you held the pride of the Malfoys, Draco, I thought you cared."

_Oh dear Lord._

Divine intervention was definitely not going to stop Narcissa.

"Your father would be ashamed to see you now, Draco. And I don't suppose you're planning to tell me why you were running off from your master in New York, hmm? I may be older now, Draco, but I am not entirely stupid."

_You're sure about that? You seemed completely clueless and obsessed with good old NYC when we were hiding there. _

"…Becoming the friend of a filthy half-blood. And…no. If you've been friends with him in Hogwarts, chances are that you've been fraternizing with that Ronald Weasley and Mudblood Granger."

"Well, Mother, I…" his somewhat guilty expression gave him away.

"Draco how _could_ you? You know that the Weasleys are a set of blood-traitors, and that Granger girl, intelligent as she may be, is a _Muggle_?"

_Oh, for goodness' sake, shut up, woman!_

"Mother, listen to me!"

"I will not!"

"#$$&#$$#$#$!"

"_Draco!_"

"Sorry, Mother, but it was the only way to get you to shut up."

"I am…"

"Look, in that Muggle class we had to take in sixth year, the one that lasted for a few weeks, I was put with two Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione. We kind of…" he related the whole thing to Narcissa.

Narcissa went paler than usual. Then her face softened. She was too tired to argue anymore. Then she considered everything that had happened.

Her sister and brother-in-law, Bellatrix and Rodolphus, had been Death Eaters. And they'd been imprisoned in Azkaban for thirteen years.

Her husband had been a Death Eater and now he was in Azkaban with no hope of escape.

Igor Karkaroff had been a Death Eater, and he was dead. How many other Death Eaters had Voldemort killed or had met terrible fates? Was it worth losing the only thing she truly valued to terror and stupid views? If Draco was happy with his new friends, and had not been happy as a Death Eater (she could tell, as all mothers can), then it was better to let him "fraternize with blood-traitors and Mudbloods."

Besides, Andromeda had married a Muggle and seemed to be living a very satisfied and happy life.

Narcissa sighed. "Okay, Draco. It's fine. As long as you are happy, it's okay."

It was a very touching moment when mother and son embraced.

Harry broke the silence. "Now…how exactly are you going to remain hidden from Voldemort?"

**A/N: **Should I incorporate the Voldemort's-unsuccessful-search thing? Probably. I think I will eventually. Or I'll weave in and out of it. That depends.


	3. Chapter 3: The Misfortunes of Voldemort

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

**Chapter 3: The Misfortunes of Voldemort**

For the first time in his life, Voldemort was stressed, frustrated, stymied, you name it. You see, reader, Voldemort was used to being in control and usually had a nonchalant, relaxed countenance, while plotting his diabolical and cruel actions.

Voldemort had always felt that he was in control, and delighted in scaring people, which he did very well.

But he'd never been outside of Europe. He'd never actually considered going outside of Europe.

And sitting depressed in the jail, lacking in a wand, Voldemort felt extremely vulnerable.

Let's go back a little bit, reader.

Voldemort had felt it necessary to gather his faithful Death Eaters together to plan his next attack in London. He burned Pettigrew's forearm with one touch of his finger. Immediately, all the new Death Eaters (including Snape) Apparated by his side. All except one were there.

That one was Draco Malfoy.

Voldemort does not forgive. He does not think of the possibilities of things that may have happened to his Death Eaters. When the Mark burns, all Death Eaters must be at Voldemort's side without delay. When Draco was not there, Voldemort was angry. Snape, Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and the others were there. But Malfoy was missing. Pettigrew, Amycus, and Greyback were present. But there was no Malfoy.

Voldemort was very angry.

Draco had felt the Mark burn. He knew he had to leave ASAHP (A/N: my abbreviation for what I say: As soon as humanly possible), because Voldemort would be on his tail any minute.

Draco had never taken the Apparition test. He'd Splinched himself once, leaving behind his legs and an ear. Not wanting to repeat the experience, he decided that he preferred Portkeys and broomsticks. So Parvati made a Portkey out of a chipped plate and Draco got his mother and girlfriend (and himself) out of there.

Draco had been right: Voldemort was on his tail, exactly a minute after he'd left. But Voldemort never thought that Malfoy was deserting. Maybe he was just too slow. Voldemort couldn't abide slowness.

So he set out for Malfoy Manor and…Malfoy wasn't there.

It hit him. Malfoy _had_ deserted. Voldemort was furious.

Voldemort was a powerful wizard. He could easily discover where unfaithful Death Eaters were. He searched for a year and when he couldn't find them anywhere in Europe, he thought to himself.

_Where would one go in order to stay well concealed?_

Then he guessed correctly: New York City.

Of course. It was full of Muggles and was so busy, it would be extremely difficult for anyone to find them. But Voldemort was not to be underestimated. He'd find them.

Voldemort was probably the only wizard (besides Dumbledore) who could Apparate over very long distances. And Voldemort Apparated over the Atlantic right into New York City. He landed in a garbage can, unfortunately, which was full of trash and about to be picked up and dumped into a garbage truck…

"ARGH!"

The garbage man looked around. "Did you hear that, Bill?"

Bill was confused. "Hear what?"

"Something screamed."

"Oh, Joe, we've needed to oil that door for ages, remember? It's probably that."

"Oh. Okay, sure."

Joe threw the contents of the trash (and Voldemort) into the back of the truck without really looking at what he was throwing. "Urgh. This stuff gets heavier and heavier."

Voldemort frowned. It was time to Apparate out of there.

So he did, and was very displeased to see himself covered in rubbish. He was even more displeased when four stray dogs came running up to him, jumping on him, and licking him.

"Ow, get off me, you stupid canines. Get—off!" he kicked them away. They slunk off, whining sadly.

Suddenly, someone screamed. Voldemort jumped. Two small children were running away from him. Well, it's not every day you see a grayish man with pretty much no nose and red eyes, right reader? He pointed his wand at them, about to perform a deadly curse. Then…

_Crash!_

An old lady's heavy handbag connected with his skull.

"Ahh! Lady…"

_Crash!_

"Don't hurt the children!" yelled a short, grey-haired woman with a long nose. While Voldemort stared about his surroundings looking dazed, the lady pulled out a wand and yelled, "Stupefy!"

Voldemort fell over, Stunned.

With a grin, Tonks morphed back into a young-looking witch with short, spiky pink hair.

Suddenly, a white owl came swooping down. "Hedwig!"

Tonks was the reason why Voldemort was in jail. She'd received a letter from Harry. Fortunately, Tonks didn't have to travel to New York, because she and Lupin were there, enjoying life and their anniversary. Tonks was wandering about when she immediately recognized Voldemort, saw him about to kill two Muggle children, and went into action.

Then the letter, and Hedwig, arrived.

Tonks decided to turn Voldemort over to the Muggle police. It was pretty much impossible to get him back to England or into Azkaban. So she had to be contented with sticking him in a Muggle cell—without a wand. To be safe, she got Dumbledore over to the US to charm the jail and its grounds into a place out of which no one could Apparate.

And it worked.

So…

For the first time in his life, Voldemort was stressed, frustrated, stymied, you name it. And sitting depressed in the jail, lacking in a wand, Voldemort felt extremely vulnerable.

**A/N:** Voldemort is the way I like him… diabolical, not entirely stupid, but not exactly a genius either. But he's cruel, and evil and I'm going to stop here for now.


	4. Chapter 4: A Defense Lesson

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. I have a feeling this is not the last time I'll be writing this. And I'm probably right.

**Chapter 4: 2 parts- A Defense Lesson in Concealment and Voldemort's Idea**

For a little while, reader, we are going to leave unfortunate Lord Voldemort in a New York jail and go back across the Atlantic to England—to the Ministry of Magic.

Harry was looking at Draco, Parvati, and Narcissa.

We will now, reader, put this chapter in the context of a "how to" lesson. You know what I mean, don't you? Of course you do. Lovely.

This lesson should be titled as follows (this, I believe, is the most appropriate title for such a lesson).

How to Conceal Oneself from a Dark and Dangerous Wizard Particularly if One has Deserted Him and He will Kill You Upon Discovering Your Whereabouts

That basically sums everything up, now, doesn't it, reader?

Have you deserted a particularly powerful wizard lately?

Is he after you?

Are you on the run?

Did he follow you across an ocean, and did you run back?

Are you in a deathly situation?

_Is your name Draco Abraxas Malfoy?_

Well listen up. If you fulfill requirements, you simply do the following:

Land rudely in Harry Potter's Ministry office.

Acquaint him with all the circumstances.

Throw yourself at his feet and beg him to help you.

If Harry rolls his eyes and says, "Oh please. Not again," and then agrees, you're doing something right! If not, we can't help you.

Follow Harry with your bewildered girlfriend and mother to number 12, Grimmauld Place. If Harry ushers you inside, do not recoil, unlike your girlfriend. Pull your girlfriend inside.

If things get slightly violent, Stun her.

Stay in number 12 Grimmauld Place, no matter how much your mother protests.

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Harry showed them to the kitchen.

Dumbledore was there, eating some chicken soup that Molly Weasley had cooked. He was looking particularly pleased. "Molly, this is amazing."

Mrs. Weasley smiled, and then spotted Harry and his entourage. "Harry! Oh my dear, you look peaky, come sit down. And who in the name of Merlin are these people?"

"Erm, Mrs. Weasley, Professor Dumbledore, Draco, his mother, and Parvati are, to put it bluntly, on the run." Draco related all the circumstances.

Dumbledore agreed that they must stay on the condition that they did not leave (for he was still not entirely sure of Narcissa's loyalty). "And I assure you, this house is _very_ well protected. But one mistake and your lives may be thrown into jeopardy."

Narcissa, Parvati, and Draco agreed, though Parvati insisted upon having a room "without spiders," at which Dumbledore had to smile.

Harry told them they'd be safe. Draco had to be content with that. But he still had misgivings…

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Meanwhile, in New York City, Voldemort was feeling vulnerable, irritated, frustrated, the whole nine yards.

He had distanced himself from Muggles AMAHP (my abbreviation for as much as humanly possible) and had no idea as to how a Muggle would escape from a prison.

_What will I do now? No, mustn't think like that…Lord Voldemort always is in control. There. Breathe in, breathe out…that's better. _

_Now I think…I feel stupid. I should Apparate out! Why not?_

Oh, buddy, there were many answers to that question.


	5. Chapter 5: Failure

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter; that should have rung a bell. I hate this stupid disclaimer; it should go to…

**Chapter 5: The Beginning of the Failed Escape Plans**

So, of course, Voldemort did try it. He thought with all his might. And then…

He was doing it! He was feeling his way into nothingness…

Then…

"YEOW!"

Some invisible shield was pushing him backwards, and hard, onto the floor of solid concrete.

"Uhh. My head."

See, reader, even the great Lord Voldemort could not push his way through a shield that Dumbledore had created. Voldemort may have been one of the greatest wizards ever, but that did not prevent him from being incapable of working against certain laws of magic.

Voldemort, as I had previously stated, hated all sorts of Muggles and distanced himself from them AMAHP. But he was compelled to think like a Muggle at this time.

"Hmm. Now, how do Muggles break out of heavily guarded jail cells? Well…"

Lacking in a wand was definitely not the best position for Voldemort.

He, sweating heavily, picked up the heavy bench that stood next to his bed and stood next to the bars on the door…

_Crash! Crash! Crash!_

"Have—to—get—out."

_CRASH! CRASH!_

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Security guards were watching little TVs that showed all the prisoners' doings, in case someone was planning something dangerous.

Jerry Stanford looked at a screen in surprise. He called over his friend, who was doing the watch with him. "Hey, Charlie. Look there, at Number one-thirty-nine."

"God, Jerry, what's he doing, then?"

"I dunno. Looks like some crazed idiot to me. What do we do?"

"Get him into a more secure cell."

Jerry pressed a button. "Hey, could you get over here? One-thirty-nine's showing some scary, psychological damage there. Yeah, uh-huh, um, yeah, okay, thanks."

He turned to Charlie. "They're on their way."

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Half an hour later, Voldemort still hadn't loosened the bars on his jail door. _There is always a possibility; if not one, then two. _

With grim determination, he resumed his banging on the jail door. And finally, _finally_ someone came _to release him!_

In reality, they hadn't. Voldemort realized this when two large, burly security guards grabbed ahold of his arms and began to march him down to another cell.

"Unhand me, you filthy Muggle fiends. Avada Kedavra!" He then realized he was missing a wand.

"Hm. Jerry was right. He does have some weird disorders. Look at the stuff he's saying to us! And he's saying it so seriously, like it's supposed to kill us or something."

Voldemort was very angry.

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He was led to a massive cell. Only, it seemed to have cushions stuck to the walls. And there were cushions on the floor…and on the ceiling. What sort of cell was this?

"Hmpf." That was such an un-Voldemort thing to say that Voldemort blushed. Which was a totally un-Voldemort thing to do.

"Curses! Curses! How did these foolish Muggle fiends foil my plans! MY PLANS! Created by I, the master of all magic, and the greatest sorcerer in the world! How, how—HOW?"

The security guards who had brought him to this place came to the door.

"Hey, um, dude…"

"My name is not Dude. I am Lord Voldemort."

The guards looked skeptically at each other.

One spoke. "Sure—Voldi-emort—yeah."

The other said, "Anyway, you will be taken down. The doctor will see you now."

They both grabbed ahold of him and dragged him down to an office.

This office was clean and bright. Mahogany shelves held professional-looking books, with titles like, Please Stop Laughing At Me and Becoming more Secure. A long, leather chair was near the shelves. A large desk stood at the far end of the room. Sitting in another chair was a skinny little man in a suit, wearing round glasses, and holding a clipboard and a pen.

Voldemort was, for the first time, confused.

**A/N:** Okay, so Voldemort is getting to see a shrink. I kind of like that.


	6. Chapter 6: Parvati's Trouble

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter

**Chapter 6: Parvati's First Trouble in Number 12**

Draco was satisfied. A letter had come from Tonks saying that Voldemort had been taken to some Muggle Healer who dealt with strange behaviour.

Voldemort wouldn't be getting out for a little while. Draco grinned to himself. _Now all I have to do is stay in here and not come out. And there are benefits. Mrs. Weasley's cooking is great, the house is huge, and it's been made Unplottable. I honestly think that nothing bad can happen to us here. _

Well, he was right, in the sense that Voldemort wouldn't be able to kill him ruthlessly, but he forgot about one thing and how fussy that one thing was.

Can you guess, reader?

If you supposed his girlfriend, Parvati, you'd be right.

Parvati was very nice. But when she was angry, trying to calm her down was like trying to calm some sort of force of nature, such as a tsunami. You can imagine, reader.

And Parvati, though she totally supported Draco in all his endeavours to hide from Voldemort, she did not appreciate being dragged into a decrepit old Dark-wizard home.

The day started off okay. It was warm and very nice.

Parvati rose at about eight-thirty and went down for breakfast.

Fortunately, there were no recent strange occurrences around the house. Kreacher's heart had (finally) given out two years ago. Harry wasn't too sad at the loss of his house-elf, as that creature was the very (formerly) living being that had brought about the loss of his godfather, Sirius Black.

Anyway, though there were no recent strange occurrences (lizards in the bathtub, Dungbombs under the bed, etc.), there were several old things in the house that were not quite normal. Some were, to put it bluntly reader, very disgusting.

Parvati wanted a cup of tea. She skipped down to the kitchen and searched the cupboards for tea bags. Once she found some Earl Grey, she pulled out the kettle and opened it. A huge black spider scuttled out—up her arms.

"AAAAARRRRGH! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF ME! AAAAHHHH!"

Draco came running down. "Parvati, are you okay?" He had to laugh. Parvati was dancing around wildly, with some strange, furry, black hat that was moving about on top of her head.

He came closer to see what was bothering her. Then he gasped. At the same moment, Parvati shook her head hard—and the spider flew off and landed on Draco's stomach. It began to crawl down his pants (with surprising ease for an enormous spider) towards a very significant part of Draco's body.

Draco yelled and danced around even more wildly than Parvati had.

Just then (to make things better, tee hee), Ron came down. He found it quite amusing to see Draco clutching his area (which, under the pants, looked incredibly large and somewhat fuzzy. Ron thought that a little odd) and Parvati crying.

"Erm, ahem, Draco…Parvati…what's wrong?"

Draco yelled loudly and yanked off his pants, flinging them in the air. The spider fell out and landed—

Right on Ron's face.

Ron started swearing and clawing at his face. The pants were also hanging off of him, funnily enough.

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Hermione heard some strange noises coming from downstairs. She came to the door. Something sounded weird.

That was definitely Ron's voice, shouting what sounded like unrepeatable swearing. There was also Draco, just yelling his head off. And a distant wailing sounded a little like Parvati or Padma. Hmm…

Hermione crept into the kitchen. An amusing sight lay before her.

Ron was clutching at his face, upon which a large, hairy, black spider was perched. A pair of black pants was over his red hair (not good. Typical Ron to start swearing in a crisis). Draco was yelling at Ron, saying something like, "Get it away!" and was standing on the table wearing a green sweatshirt and a pair of grey boxers with patterns of little green and golden dragons (very strange). Parvati was sitting there crying (not unexpected).

Hermione guessed the reason for the pandemonium. She decided to watch the scene for a minute, considering it was very entertaining and was the only amusement she'd had for a week. Goblins were very hard to cooperate with in her department.

After a couple minutes or so, Hermione aimed at the spider with her wand and yelled, "Petrificus Totalus!"

The spider fell to the ground. Hermione calmly moved it out the up the stairs and out the upstairs window. She was very good at Locomotion Charms.

Ron stopped swearing and looked incredibly stupid with Draco's black pants over his head.

Draco stopped yelling. But after a moment's pause, he let out a loud screech and attempted to cover his lovely little dragon-boxers.

Parvati kept wailing.

Hermione smiled.

**A/N: **I think I may have to change the rating on the story. But I'm not so sure. Ah well. I'll see later. I had written a poem about the ERBs and how I hated them. It was fun. Part of it is a little interesting:

Vocabulary's strange.

I don't know what they meant

When they said, "deluge".

Who says the word, "augment"?

So I kind of liked it…actually, I really liked it. I'm going to think of my next chapter now. Au revoir.


	7. Chapter 7: How Do You Feel?

**Disclaimer:** Isn't it a surprise that my name is not J.K. Rowling, thus indicating that I don't own Harry Potter?

**Chapter 7: How Do You Feel About That?**

The skinny little man smiled at Voldemort, who glared right back at him. You see reader; Voldemort did not appreciate appreciation from unworthy Muggles.

The little man smiled gently. "My name is Doctor Winkler. Why don't you have a seat, Mr. umm—?"

"Lord Voldemort."

Dr. Winkler looked very confused. "Lord whom?"

"I—am—Lord—Voldemort."

The doctor turned to one of the guards and whispered, "You were right. The prisoner does seem to have several behavioral issues."

"I heard that, Muggle filth. And I _am_ lord Voldemort."

"Of course you are."

"Hmm. If I were properly armed, Muggle, you would be nothing more than a pile of dust at the moment. Or I would torture you with a Cruciatus Curse, and you would be reduced to a useless, gibbering being. Ahh, the Cruciatus Curse; one thousand years of pain!"

Winkler scribbled away on his clipboard. "Takes—pleasure—in—suggesting—violent—methods—of—dealing—with—pressure—from—those—who—want—to—help. Possibly—result—of—child—abuse—from—wealthy—parents."

"What's that, Muggle fiend?"

"Erm, nothing, Mr. Lord."

"_Lord Voldemort_."

"Of course, Lord, Voldy-emort."

"Not too bad, for a Muggle fool."

Voldemort was feeling powerless without his wand. He'd gone too long with it.

"So…erm, _sir_, tell me about your childhood."

"Childhood?"

"Erm, yes, your time as a child."

"I _know_ what childhood is, you stupid, filthy Muggle fiend!"

"Shush, shush, no need to get violent. So?"

"Grew up in a filthy Muggle orphanage, hated Muggles, Muggle woman stupid, realized powers at eleven thanks to Dumbledore, still hated my childhood…that's all?"

"Okay, we're getting somewhere. And how do you feel about that?"

"Oh you Muggle fiends are truly stupid. Did I not indicate how much I hated that filthy Muggle place?"

"Yes, yes, kinder language will be more welcome."

"Shut up, Muggle fiend."

"Now, what does 'Muggle' mean to you? Is it your own word? It's quite charming, but it seems to have a rather negative connotation."

"Oh, stupid Muggle fiend, of course its connotation is negative. You are a stupid Muggle fiend, I was brought here by stupid Muggle fiends, et cetera."

"You still have not defined what you mean by a, um, 'Muggle-fiend'."

"_You are a Muggle fiend, you fool._ Now shut up, before I pull out your windpipe."

Winkler was scribbling away again.

"And—how do you feel about using this language?"

"Don't know, don't care."

"How do you feel?"

Stony silence.

"You don't want to tell me?"

Silence.

"Come on."

Silence.

"Now, now, the nice doctor's here to help you."

"Isn't that what Healers say before they force nasty-tasting potions down your throat?"

Winkler tore his hair in frustration and yelled loudly.

"AAAAAHH!"

A security guard burst in. "Everything okay?"

"NO IT IS NOT OKAY! THIS IS THE MOST ORNERY, OBSTINATE, PIG-HEADED PATIENT THAT I'VE EVER COME ACROSS!"

"Well, if you…"

"NO IF!" The clipboard narrowly missed Voldemort's head as the skinny little doctor flung it across the room with amazing force. "I _QUIT_!"

He stomped out of the room, looking very, _very_ angry.

The security guard had to smile.

**A/N:** I based Voldemort off one of my friends, because she's extremely amusing and she's in pretty much all of my classes, so I hear her talk—a lot. Not that that's bad, Tailia, but it is a little disconcerting to hear you threaten to pull out my windpipe, or various other methods of torture when I take _my_ seat in classes. :) Thanks to those who have reviewed; your reviews mean a lot.


	8. Chapter 8: Dust and Dishes

**Disclaimer:** I do not and will never own Harry Potter or _Express Yourself_

**Chapter 8: Dust, Dishes, and Dreadful Singing**

Narcissa and Draco were busy cleaning out a cabinet in the dining room (the house had only recently been occupied, and other strange objects were being found in various places).

Draco had found a strange book that screamed if opened.

Narcissa had been bitten by another spider and was being treated by Mrs. Weasley. She was not very happy and decided to leave the cleaning to Draco and Parvati. After all, they were younger. Narcissa was older now and needed her rest, right?

Parvati found the vacuum cleaner—it was a different type of vacuum, as it did not run off electricity and spat out dust in the trash when full.

Unfortunately, the vacuum was about fifty years old, and did not work as well as it used to. So when it was full (which didn't take much more dust and dirt, as it had been nearly full as of ten years previously), it burst and spewed ten years' worth of dust all over the drawing room and—Parvati.

Parvati screamed. Harry rushed in. "What?"

Then he laughed to see the usually so sophisticated Parvati Patil covered in dust, dirt, and God knows what. Parvati growled at him and flung a handful of dust at his face.

Unfortunately, Draco was entering the room at the moment and Harry ducked. Dust spattered Draco's chest. "ARGH! MY FAVORITE SHIRT!"

He picked up a handful and flung it at Parvati. It hit her arm. Parvati hit Draco again. Draco thought it was Harry who flung the dust ball, and tried to hit him on his forehead.

Hermione was coming in to see what the noise was and received a face full of dirt.

She picked up some to fling at Draco. At the moment, Narcissa was coming down to investigate the source of noise. As she opened her mouth to object, Hermione's dust ball was thrown…right into Narcissa's mouth.

Narcissa gasped and choked. Then she spat out the nasty, grey mouthful. And she screamed. Loudly.

Narcissa looked furious for a moment. Then…

She threw a ball of dust at Hermione.

Hermione giggled and a dust fight issued throughout the room.

Dust and dirt from ten years ago flew about the room in great clods. Everyone got dirtier as the day wore on.

The room was filthy.

Suddenly, the door opened.

Mrs. Weasley was there, carrying a pile of clean laundry. She stopped in shock at the disgusting room and people, especially at Narcissa, whose hair had changed rapidly from blonde to grey with dust.

Mrs. Weasley fainted.

And everyone laughed.

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Parvati then decided to clean out a cabinet by herself, a severe mistake, to redeem herself in Mrs. Weasley's eyes (Mrs. Weasley had woken up, yelled at everyone, then got rid of the dust with a wave of her wand). Cleaning out the cabinets alone in Number 12, Grimmauld Place was not a good idea. As Forrest Gump once said, "You don't know what you gonna get." And he was very right.

Parvati encountered another spider, but had her wand ready to Stun it and throw it away. Suddenly, the dishes in the cabinet started bouncing. They bounced right out of the cabinet and danced all about the room. It was quite funny to see Parvati running after plates and ancient china bowls looking extremely angry.

One bounced at her…and knocked her out.

Ginny stepped out from behind the cabinet. "Virginia Weasley, your pranks get better and better. I mean seriously. This is the best I've pulled here! Bouncing dishes! What next? At least I didn't do any of the other stuff; it was there originally. But really. I am a genius."

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Draco was cleaning out a wardrobe. There were some very musty old robes in there that had to be taken out.

Now, reader, you know that Draco has a penchant for singing while in a good mood, or when he is busy.

At this point, Draco was busy, and he started singing.

"Don't go for second best baby, put your love to the test, you know you know, you've got to! Make him express…"

Harry heard a weird noise. What the heck was that? He crept to a bedroom from which the noise was coming.

"…How he feels, then baby, you know your love is real." Draco was totally getting into the song. He spun his mop around and attempted some crazy dance moves.

Harry pulled open the door.

"Satin sheets are very romantic, what happens when you're not there?"

Oh. Not the right room. It was the next one.

"Take it to a higher ground!"

Harry pulled open the door. In the room was a very amusing sight. Draco was break dancing with a mop, positively screaming, "DON'T GO FOR SECOND BEST, BABY, PUT YOUR LOVE TO THE TEST, YOU KNOW YOU KNOW YOU'VE GOT TO! MAKE HIM EXPRESS HOW HE FEELS AND THEN YOU KNOW YOUR LOVE IS REAL, **EXPRESS YOURSELF!**"

"Draco…"

"YOU'VE GOT TO MAKE HIM EXPRESS HIMSELF. HEY, HEY! SO IF YOU WANT IT RIGHT NOW, MAKE HIM SHOW YOU HOW! EXPRESS WHAT HE'S GOT…"

Suddenly, Draco's song was drowned out by a screech of, "Filthy Mudbloods, contaminating the home of my fathers…"

Draco let out a high-pitched scream.

Harry grinned at him. "Sorry, mate, I couldn't help but hear you…neither could Sirius' mum down there.'

"…"

"The picture downstairs is one of Sirius' dead mum. She screams when there's too much noise. I forgot to tell you."

"_Unworthy Muggle filth, traipsing over the floor that once harboured pure blood!"_

"Yeah. So you get my point. Try to keep the eighties at a bare minimum."

"Hm."

Narcissa ran downstairs trying to calm the portrait of her screaming aunt.

"Now, now…"

"_Filthy niece of mine, I am ashamed of the blood that connects us. Associating with blood-traitors, filthy Muggles…_"

Draco turned red. "Um, hee, hee."

At the moment, Ginny walked in. "God, Draco, don't you have a thing for eighties music. And loud. You should be a singer."

**A/N:** I can't stop the Draco-singing-eighties-music thing. I love it, for some strange reason. Anyway… Voldemort will be here soon…


	9. Chapter 9: Free!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter or The Count of Monte Cristo

**Chapter 9: I Want to Break Free**

After frustrating a counselor into retirement, attacking two security guards, and (with inhuman strength) grabbing a heavy, steel lamp and throwing it at a police officer (thus hospitalizing him with serious injuries), Voldemort was back in his cell.

How to escape he did not know.

And he was in that soft cell again. All there was in that cell was toilet, see-through bars (great, no one could "go" without someone watching), and a hard, wooden bench.

_Now how do I use these things for my benefit? Maybe I could steal a spoon from the lunch tray that they give me every day and tunnel under the jail by digging industriously. _

_There is always one way, if not, then two. _

Voldemort thought, thought, and thought some more.

_Yes, tunneling under the jail by means of spoons is probably the best way. At that Muggle orphanage I had to live in, they talked about this book, The Mount of Conte Cristo_, _or something like that. I think the mad Italian professor dug under his jail with a stick. I should do it with a spoon. Intense digging action!_

So when the lunch tray arrived, Voldemort stole the spoon.

He whacked at the floor and tried breaking through the pads, but it was all in vain. A security guard did see him on the camera, however, and called for intervention.

So a guard was dispatched to take away the spoon from Voldemort, who was showing more "disorders" as they put it, reader.

Voldemort was angry and distraught.

_My one way of escape is GONE! How? HOW? Muggle fiends! They will pay for all my injuries. And what can I do now? There is no spoon!_

Voldemort had to think, think, and think again.

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Early the next morning, Voldemort thought of another way to escape.

_I'll threaten one of those Muggle fiends into letting me go!_

When Charlie came over to see if Voldemort was all right, Voldemort grabbed his neck. "If you let me go, I promise you, you shall not be hurt."

"Dude, let me go!"

"Release me, Muggle fiend. Then, I shall leave, and you will never hear from me. I do not willingly consort with Muggles, you know. So, what do you think, Muggle fiend?"

"No way!"

"Then I shall have to resort to drastic measures, Muggle."

But Charlie, who had years of judo training, flipped Voldemort neatly onto his back and ran out of the cell, ensuring that he locked it tightly.

_Well, there goes Plan B._

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Voldemort kept thinking and thinking. He noticed that two people could either enter or exit a room when one door opened.

So he thought it was totally worth a try.

Another security guard warily opened the door to bring in Voldemort's lunch tray. As it opened, Voldemort made a run for it, to try and get through the door before it closed. Unfortunately, it did close and Voldemort ran headlong into the steel bars.

"Oww…"

_Well, there goes Plan C_

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Voldemort kept thinking. He was tired of thinking. Then he thought, _well, maybe, if I shake the bars enough, I could bend them. It's worth a try_.

So he did. As he was rattling the bars away (making an inordinate amount of noise), a large, female security guard came up with a stick. She hit Voldemort's hands. Hard. Voldemort yelped and jumped back in pain. The security guard looked at him sternly. "No noise."

Voldemort was not happy at all.

_How to break free?_

_This is difficult; very, very difficult._

_I will conquer this yet!_

You do that, Lord Voldemort.

The epiphany came to Voldemort in the middle of that night. _I know how to escape!_

With more inhuman strength, he wrenched the toilet from the floor and threw it at the door.

_I was right! I can use what I have! HAHA!_

The bars bent a little. This was exactly what Voldemort wanted. He'd break them eventually.

After a little while, the bars were loosening.

But suddenly, it became stuck between two bars. Voldemort couldn't pull it out, but he did loosen it.

So he resorted to crawling through the small hole it made by widening the bars. As he slipped through, the toilet freed itself and landed on his foot.

"YEOW!"

Luckily, no one woke up. Voldemort crept out the door of the jail, which some stupid guard had fortunately left open.

**He was free. **

**A/N:** Well, I had to get him out sometime soon. So he's out. But he's without a wand, still. Pauvre Lord Voldemort. Ah, ce n'est pas bon. Vraiment. Mais, je vais aller au Numéro Douze, Grimmald Place ou Draco, Parvati, et Narcissa habitent. Merci. Oh yeah, and thanks Tailia (though you totally aren't reading this right now) for the toilet idea before history class.


	10. Chapter 10: Not so Wandless

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter

**Chapter 10: Not So Wandless Anymore…kind of **

(A/N: This is a more serious chapter, because the story needs more seriousness)

Tonks realized that Voldemort was gone the very next day. She immediately sent an owl to Harry—and flew back to the UK with Voldemort's wand.

Harry spent two whole days in his office without returning to Number 12, Grimmauld Place. He was mad and frustrated, but not with Tonks. Tonks did the best she could, and she had Voldemort's wand, which she gave to Harry. They stood next to the desk, the wand lying on top of the desk.

They debated over what to do.

"What do we do with it, Tonks?"

"Might I suggest snapping it in two? I could do it!"

"I don't like snapping other people's wands."

"Oh, really, Harry, you're too stupid sometimes. Who cares? This is _Lord Voldemort's wand_."

"Yeah, but—"

"But nothing."

She sounded like Ginny.

"Tonks…wands are…_part_ of wizards."

"So? Like you should care? He killed your parents with that wand and also disfigured your face."

Harry gave Tonks a look. She turned red.

"Okay, not so much disfigured. But you have that scar… and people notice it, and you don't like it. What would happen if he'd never done that?"

"How is this relevant to the wand?"

"Because he did that stuff _with_ that wand."

"…"

"Don't act like you're puzzled."

"Okay fine. Let's leave it here and ask McGonagall when she comes over."

They shoved the wand into the desk and locked it.

But they didn't see Peter Pettigrew sneak in the room once they'd left.

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Voldemort had gotten out of prison and had sent word to Pettigrew, about the same time that Tonks had sent her owl to Harry.

Voldemort knew that Tonks had the wand.

Voldemort knew she'd go back to the UK.

Voldemort knew that she'd turn to Harry and the Order of the Phoenix.

Voldemort knew they'd debate.

Voldemort wasn't stupid. Most of the time.

So Pettigrew got the message to steal the wand back, unharmed. And if it had been broken, he had to have taken all the fragments. Voldemort had Mr. Ollivander captive, you see, reader. He'd tortured him several times. Another time would make Ollivander a little more compliant, which he was definitely not at the time. Ollivander was a surprisingly stubborn old man.

And Pettigrew stole the wand.

But something went wrong, reader. You see, Hermione was walking down the corridor in which Harry's office was located. She saw a hooded figure rush by with something. She saw it trip, drop something, step on that something, break it into several pieces, curse, hurriedly pick up the pieces, and run again.

But it left behind some of that something. Hermione walked closer to see what it was. A small red and gold phoenix feather lay on the ground.

Hermione picked it up. She sensed something more behind that one phoenix feather. She was almost certain that the figure was running from Harry's office. It was way too short to be Harry. She knew Harry had Voldemort's wand. She put the two together…

"Oh God…"

Hermione Apparated to Number 12, Grimmauld Place.

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"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Hermione had told Harry that someone had taken the wand from his office. She hadn't told him about the feather…yet.

Now Harry sat, distraught, on an old footstool with his head in his hands. Draco was trying not to laugh, and Ginny was patting Harry's head at intervals, which made it even funnier.

It was not amusing that someone had taken the wand; Harry's reaction was just funny.

"But listen, Harry."

"What? Now someone's taken it; he's coming back!"

"Look," she brought out the feather. "He stepped on it and it broke. I have the core. So, Voldemort's getting a pile of useless wood."

"Oh my God, are you serious?"

"Um hm."

"Hermione, you're a lifesaver."

"Yes, well, now we have to decide what to do with the feather."

"Let's burn it!"

"Hang on a minute, you cannot just burn something like that, Potter." Narcissa had come into the room.

"Why?"

"It has too much magic and power in it. Your two wands are probably the most powerful ever created. The wands of the greatest sorcerer in the world and the _only_ one with the power and ability to conquer him? It would be foolish and unwise. Besides, it won't work."

"You're optimistic."

"I'm serious. You can't burn a phoenix feather." Narcissa gracefully sat herself down on a couch.

"And why not?"

"Phoenixes are born from fire, Potter. It cannot harm them. It takes a lot to destroy a phoenix, and its feathers will still last. These are amazingly magical birds. You cannot destroy this feather."

"So…I…What do I do?"

"Conceal it from him as best you can. It is the only way."

"Narcissa. This is _Voldemort _we're talking about. We should…"

"We should what? I've told you we cannot eradicate the feather. It's literally impossible. What more do you want, Potter?"

"Well, whom do we give it to?"

"Isn't it obvious? For someone who generally shows so much intelligence Potter, you are acting rather stupid at the moment."

Harry growled. "Tell me!"

"Dumbledore, of course."

"Narcissa, you seem to have slipped into this side as easily as one slips his hand into a glove. Why?"

"Quite eloquent, I see you are, Potter."

"Well? Why the heck did you?"

"I had to."

"Really? The way I remember it, you were saying I'd be soon dead. Hmm? And what about your loyalty to your husband? What about him?"

"Anyone can change Potter! You, yourself, can easily go to the other side!" screamed Narcissa, all calmness and serenity gone.

"I'll never go there! Voldemort killed my parents! And you haven't told me!"

"I did it for Draco! I love my son! I care nothing for Lucius, the way he treats us at home! I only wanted the best for my son. Why are you suddenly so suspicious?"

"I find it somewhat odd that you can…"

"I made the Unbreakable Vow."


	11. Chapter 11: The Truth about Narcissa

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Jaded

**Chapter 11: The Truth about Narcissa and more Fun Stuff Involving Parvati**

Harry fell silent. No one spoke. Finally, Hermione (who honestly had some distrust towards Narcissa's change in the past few weeks) whispered, "You did _what_?"

Narcissa changed. She changed from her haughty, unbending self to a desperate, loving mother.

"I made the Unbreakable Vow. I cannot go back to Voldemort again. I cannot betray you. I cannot do anything to help my husband. Nor do I wish to."

"But why? And who Bonded you, and come to that…who did you Bond with?"

"Minerva McGonagall Bonded us…Dumbledore and I."

"Why did you do it? And what…?"

"I'll tell you. Listen."

Everyone gathered around Narcissa and listened intently.

"Draco is terrible at making Portkeys…"

"Mother!"

"It's true! We landed right in Potter's office, when were supposed to have gone to the Manor. Draco finally told me about his friendship with Harry Potter. I was shocked. I screamed at Draco. I felt that he had turned against me. I felt as though I had no one." Narcissa remembered the day and told the whole thing.

"…_Completely irresponsible and inconsiderate. I thought you held the pride of the Malfoys, Draco, I thought you cared."_

"_Your father would be ashamed to see you now, Draco. And I don't suppose you're planning to tell me why you were running off from your master in New York, hmm? I may be older now, Draco, but I am not entirely stupid."_

"…_Becoming the friend of a filthy half-blood. And…no. If you've been friends with him in Hogwarts, chances are that you've been fraternizing with that Ronald Weasley and Mudblood Granger."_

"_Well, Mother, I…" his somewhat guilty expression gave him away. _

"_Draco how could you? You know that the Weasleys are a set of blood-traitors, and that Granger girl, intelligent as she may be, is a Muggle?" _

"_Mother, listen to me!"_

"_I will not!"_

"_#$$&#$$#$#$!" _

"_Draco!"_

"_Sorry, Mother, but it was the only way to get you to shut up."_

"_I am…"_

"_Look, in that Muggle class we had to take in sixth year, the one that lasted for a few weeks, I was put with two Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione. We kind of…" he related the whole thing to Narcissa. _

_Narcissa went paler than usual. Then her face softened. She was too tired to argue anymore. Then she considered everything that had happened. _

_Her sister and brother-in-law, Bellatrix and Rodolphus, had been Death Eaters. And they'd been imprisoned in Azkaban for thirteen years. _

_Her husband had been a Death Eater and now he was in Azkaban with no hope of escape. _

_Igor Karkaroff had been a Death Eater, and he was dead. How many other Death Eaters had Voldemort killed or had met terrible fates? Was it worth losing the only thing she truly valued to terror and stupid views? If Draco was happy with his new friends, and had not been happy as a Death Eater (she could tell, as all mothers can), then it was better to let him "fraternize with blood-traitors and Mudbloods." _

_Besides, Andromeda had married a Muggle and seemed to be living a very satisfied and happy life. _

_Narcissa sighed. "Okay, Draco. It's fine. As long as you are happy, it's okay."_

_It was a very touching moment when mother and son embraced. _

"Potter took us here, to Number 12, Grimmauld Place. I was still worried. I knew I had committed my first act of disloyalty to the Dark Lord. I knew he would be after me. I know he will be eventually. But I knew I had to do this for Draco's happiness. And I realized it was the better choice for me. I thought I would be happy. And I am happy. But I went to see Dumbledore.

I was crying that night. Dumbledore told me kindly what I had to do. I was not secure. I knew that—if the Dark Lord found me, which he may, he would take Draco from me. He would force me to tell him the secrets that I do know of this place.

Dumbledore foresaw this too. He promised to protect my son, but should anything…happen, I made the Vow to never betray this place. And I will not."

Hermione asked one more question. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"What would you have thought of me? The one who had to magically seal an oath to stay quiet, because she'd do anything for her son?"

"We wouldn't have thought anything bad about you."

Narcissa smiled. Harry thought this was probably the first time he'd seen her smile. Then he said, "Hey, Narcissa, can you stop calling me 'Potter' then?"

Narcissa smiled again. "No. I'm too used to it."

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More cleaning had to be done in the house. Mrs. Weasley had discovered three_ more_ rooms in the house that they'd never seen previously. But they were at the very back of the house, where no one ever went. So they went back there and cleaned.

Ron and Parvati went into one of the three rooms. Hermione and Ginny worked together, since they found a nest of spiders that Ron absolutely refused to touch (thus he would not work with Hermione).

The opened yet another cabinet and proceeded to scrub it out.

Suddenly, a rather transparent, pointy-looking pixie with sharp teeth flew out at them.

"AAAAAAARRRRGH!"

The pixie flew at Ron and up his shirt. "AAAH! GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT!"

Parvati grabbed the broom and ran up to Ron. The pixie was now perched on his head. Parvati held the broom steady. "Hold still…"

She swung. The pixie dived out from under just in time. Parvati knocked Ron over. Then Ron chased the pixie into the hallway.

Ginny stepped out as he ran after the pointy little creature. "Hi Ron."

"Move your ass!"

Ginny looked miffed as Ron dashed after the pixie, which was making faces at her.

Parvati chased after both of them with a net she'd found.

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Draco walked from the third room to the drawing room to find some sort of abrasive. There was a nasty liquid that had stuck to a shelf years ago and was refusing to move. Draco suspected that it was blood.

He was in a good mood, so he sang as he walked.

"Hey! J-j-jaded. You got your mama's style, but you're yesterday's child to me! So jaded. You think that's where it's at, but is that where it's supposed to be?"

Ron dashed around the corner chasing some transparent thing…

"My, my baby, blue! Yeah, yeah, I'm thinking about you, my, my baby, blue! Yeah you're so jaded…"

CRASH!

Ron ran right into him. "Ow."

Without stopping to apologize, Ron dashed down the hallway chasing that thing. And for some reason, Draco had a bite on his hand.

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Harry was walking down the hall as well, when an interesting sight met his eyes—again.

Ron was chasing a small transparent thing across the hall into one room. Parvati was following both of them with a net.

Suddenly, there was a loud screech and Parvati ran out of the room, followed by Ron, who was in turn, followed by the pixie, which was baring sharp teeth.

Harry laughed.

Eventually, Ron and Parvati caught the pixie, which escaped and flew into Number 11.

Screams could be heard from the house. Ron gave a tired smile. "At least it's not us."

**A/N:** Review and tell me if I should start Ginny's pranks again. That's one thing I do need to know.


	12. Chapter 12: The Death Eaters meet

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter. Happy?

**Chapter 12: Gathering of the Death Eaters**

Pettigrew triumphantly reported back to Voldemort. He did not know that he was missing a vital part of the wand.

Harry had entrusted that feather to Dumbledore.

Pettigrew stumbled into the woods, where Voldemort was waiting. Before Voldemort could discover that his wand was pretty much useless, he burned Pettigrew's Mark.

Pettigrew howled in pain. Voldemort clamped a white hand over his mouth. "Shut up, you idiot! Do you wish to be discovered?"

Immediately, Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange Apparated to the site. Rabastan Lestrange had appeared as well. Avery, Amycus, Greyback, Nott, Dolohov, and Snape came.

Voldemort smiled his cruel smile. "Death Eaters. Friends. Compatriots. We are here together at last. For months now, I have been kept and concealed in a filthy Muggle prison; I am glad to say to you that, through my valiant efforts and advanced magical skills, I was able to liberate myself from the prison."

Um hmm, sure Voldemort, you have advanced magical skills.

"And now, Death Eaters, I have been reunited with my wand. We can embark on our quest to rid the world of Muggle filth and dominate the Ministry of Magic. And thanks to this potion that I have had Bellatrix prepare—"

He indicated a cauldron of bluish potion that Bellatrix had brought with her. Bellatrix smiled graciously.

"I am able to repair this wand, should any damage have occurred. Wormtail?"

Pettigrew handed over the fragments. Voldemort looked at them, irritated, and dropped them carelessly into the cauldron.

The contents of the cauldron hissed and fizzed. Suddenly, a repaired wand rose out of the bubbling liquid. It was perfect.

Voldemort smiled, a cruel smile. He reached out his hand for the wand.

"At last we are reunited. My power is coming back to me!"

He waved the wand at the cauldron to test it and said, "Evanesco."

Nothing happened. So Voldemort tried again. "Evanesco."

Still nothing. "_Evanesco_. EVANESCO. EVANESCO, EVANESCO, EVANESCO!"

Nothing happened. Voldemort flung down his wand in frustration and stomped on it. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY WAND? WORMTAIL!"

Pettigrew bowed and muttered, "It broke—I picked up all the pieces!"

Voldemort broke the wand and searched inside. "You did _not_ pick up all the pieces. The core is missing. This is a useless pile of wood!" He kicked at the shards.

Amycus stepped forth. "If I may, my Lord, it would be wiser to force that wand maker to construct a new one. Or you could go buy another."

"Amycus. I am impressed. I've never met such an _idiot_ as you are! The Ministry is looking for me; I cannot wander into a shop looking for a wand! _Crucio!_"

Amycus writhed in pain, screaming. Voldemort removed the curse. Crabbe walked forth to propose another suggestion. But he tripped and knocked the cauldron of hot potion—all over Greyback

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Bellatrix rushed forth. "It's okay! It just changes you—erm, back to your normal state.

Greyback writhed in pain. He knew what it felt like to have pain now.

But more was happening.

Slowly, but surely, Greyback was changing into a man.

He did change. He became a blond man with a narrow face and interesting grey eyes. He frowned. "Darn, I'll miss the teeth."

Voldemort was mad. "Damn your teeth; we must find that core!"

**A/N:** Shorter chapter; I know. It'll get better, I promise.


	13. Chapter 13: Discovered!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything relating to Harry Potter except the plot of my story. Don't sue.

**Chapter 13: Discovered!**

Pettigrew disguised himself as a Muggle. Snape had made another potion to change Pettigrew's look. Only a true Potions Master could have made such a brilliant potion, and I have to hand it to him; Snape was a brilliant Potions Master.

Pettigrew whined as he stared at himself in Borgin's full-length mirror. Voldemort had threatened Borgin with death if he did not quarter them in his shop; Borgin was too happy to comply.

Ollivander could not hide Voldemort in his own empty shop for the simple reason of his death. Voldemort had tortured him mercilessly with the Cruciatus Curse because he refused to tell a very important secret.

Ollivander knew a way to destroy the phoenix feather. Voldemort wanted to know this to prevent his enemies from destroying it. But Ollivander would not tell and figured, before he was tortured, _what have I got to lose? Nothing. Voldemort is killing, torturing, and harming innocent people. If I can contribute to his downfall with my death, I will._

And Ollivander had died. Not a scream of pain had ever left him during the ordeal. He'd clamped his lips shut, but his face gave away his agony. Voldemort gleefully was spurred onto greater heights and Ollivander was dead within two minutes.

Anyway, reader, we are now at Borgin's shop, where Pettigrew was staring at himself, with a rather disgusted this-is-so-freaking-wrong-on-SO-many-levels look.

"My Lord, do I _really_ have to look like this? And do the potion's effects wear off? EVER?" He was disgusted at his reflection.

In the mirror, a petite, curvy woman was grimacing back at him.

The woman seemed to have Pettigrew's eyes and his squeaky little voice (though more high pitched).

"Yes, Wormtail. How many times must I tell you? You need to go _undetected_."

"Fine. Fine. I still don't see why it must be so humiliating, though."

"Because you will not be recognized at all! Plus, who else but I—and the rest of the group—" the Death Eaters laughed loudly, "know of this?"

"My Lord, you are right."

"And this is why _I_ am the evil, diabolical, yet amazing, leader, Wormtail."

Pettigrew was still annoyed. "A _woman_," he muttered.

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However, Voldemort was wrong. He was quite wrong indeed.

Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington had once said to Harry that those who wanted to come back could, in spirit form.

Ollivander did actually want to come back. And good thing he did.

Ollivander was on Dumbledore's side.

Ollivander didn't want Voldemort to be strong.

_They may have gotten me, but they are not getting the Potter boy._

He glided into Hogwarts, and straight into Dumbledore's office.

Dumbledore looked up. "Hello there. May I assist you?"

"You idiot, it's me!"

"_Ollivander?_"

"In the flesh—or, erm, no. Not really. Well, I'm here. You have a problem…"

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When Dumbledore got back to headquarters, he told everyone the news.

Everyone was stunned. Dumbledore smiled. "I have the feather, after all, and I know how to destroy it. Anyway, I think Voldemort knows that you are here, Narcissa, and you Draco. You need to hide. And I must destroy the feather. Narcissa and Draco must leave."

Parvati cried out, "What about me?"

"Stay here. You and Draco will eventually be reunited, I promise. Narcissa—Draco—let's go."

Goodbyes were exchanged. Dumbledore gave one last piece of advice. "Be on the lookout for a very attractive woman with a squeaky voice."

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Pettigrew snuck about Grimmauld Place in the typical true-and-stern-British lady dress. It was a flowered print—and puke green.

Pettigrew was disgusted. Dear, dear.

But for some reason, he could not find that house!

Dumbledore's Unplottable charms were difficult to get around.

Poor Pettigrew.

And to add some salt to the wound, Fred and George had arrived at Grimmauld Place and wanted to make Pettigrew's life as difficult as possible. They'd never quite forgiven him for Voldemort's return.

What will happen to our mousy friend?

Reader, you will have to continue to find out.

**A/N:** A little bit of suspense never hurt, I think. Anyway, je vais aller ce moment. Au revoir, mes amis ! Bon week-end ! Continuez mon FF, parce que je vais finir. Or, I will soon.


	14. Chapter 14: Sadness

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything relating to Harry Potter—except my three stories.

**Chapter 14: A 2-part Chapter that will explain some of Fred and George Weasley's doings—and the tragedy the befell the Order**

Fred and George had come over from Diagon Alley. They wanted to see how their family and the rest of the Order were doing. When they heard of Pettigrew sneaking about Number 12, Grimmauld Place, Fred and George put their heads together to come up with various ways to get him away.

Well, what did you expect?

And, with Ginny's aid (Ginny was still awesome at pranking), Fred and George had an idea.

Ginny waited at the corner of the street with a Wizard camera.

Fred had Levitated a Canary Cream so it would be near Pettigrew as "she" stomped down the road. The Canary Cream had a stronger charm, so its unfortunate victim would be a canary for about a day.

George was had his wand at the ready—and a Decoy Detonator.

All were wearing Shield Cloaks and Hats.

So they were prepared.

George threw his Detonator at Pettigrew. She jumped up into the air, revealing rather large bloomers under her Muggle dress. Ginny snapped away. She grinned to herself.

Fred sent a Disarming charm after Pettigrew. Pettigrew fell over, snarled, and pulled out his wand. He sent a spell at Fred, but it bounced off his Shield Cloak and—

As Pettigrew saw the Cream in the air, it did not occur to him that it might have been planted. As he ate it, and the spell flew at him, he suddenly was turning into a small canary. He'd been hit with his own shrinking charm, because of his reckless thinking and Fred's Shield Cloak.

George Stunned the canary as it tried to fly away. The spell hit the bird, and it landed in Ginny's outstretched hand.

Grinning, the Weasley siblings ran inside.

They showed the bird to Mrs. Weasley, who immediately stuffed it into a cage and hung it up in the attic—where no one went. It would be impossible for Pettigrew to get out, or to hear anything of importance. If he did get out, he'd have no information to give to Voldemort.

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The canary was very angry.

He frowned to himself.

How to get out? He did not know.

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Hermione and Ginny were put in charge of the bird.

They thought about what to do to the canary.

"So…what now?"

"Well, Ginny, here's what I think. We should make sure he _stays_ a canary. That way, he can't get out. And he can't slip out by chance. He's chirping at the moment—and won't be able to communicate with You-Know-Who, if he's still a bird."

"But to be on the safe side, Hermione, let's wipe his memory as well. Just in case he does start talking."

"Fair enough."

They climbed the attic staircase and walked near the cage.

Ginny grinned evilly. "Good afternoon, my little bird-brained friend. Now how are you today? Know what we're going to do now?"

The canary flew near the bars of the cage and pecked Ginny's hand.

Hermione laughed. "Serve you right, Ginny. Be nice."

"After what he's done? Heck no!"

Hermione pulled out her wand. "Remainavis," she muttered. Ginny smiled. "Good one."

Then she drew out her wand. "Obliviate!" The bird's eyes glazed for a moment. Then—

_He fell to the floor of the cage._

Ginny was shocked. "Oh, crap, I killed him!"

"No you didn't. He's breathing. It's fine."

The bird stood up as soon as Hermione had spoken. It trilled out a long song.

Ginny smiled. "Guess I didn't kill him after all. He'll never be able to find Draco and Narcissa at this point."

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Draco and Narcissa were stumbling through the Forbidden Forest. They had insisted upon going forth without Dumbledore's aid.

Dumbledore thought that the Death Eaters would be looking more for him than for Draco and obliged.

Narcissa had tripped over a tree root and had broken her ankle. Wheezing and spluttering, she and Draco were moving more and more slowly.

"That's alright, Mother. A little step at a time."

"Draco, do you even know where we're going?"

"Dumbledore said the old Riddle House. It's got more members of the Order there. We're to Apparate at a specific point in here…I think we're close…"

"Well I certainly hope so. I've had enough with this damn leg of mine."

"Mother!"

"It's true!"

"Are you strong enough to Apparate?"

"Yes, I believe so."

Suddenly, out of the trees jumped a hooded figure. It had a wand—and was pointing the wand directly at Narcissa and Draco.

Draco snatched his wand out and brandished it like a sword. "Who are you? What is it you want?"

Everything went by in a rush. Draco could barely remember what had happened.

He only saw the figure mutter a curse, which hit him.

He slowly lost consciousness. He fell to the ground as a beam of electric blue light hit him.

All he remembered was his mother screaming, "I'm your sister! I'M YOUR SISTER!"

Then he passed out.

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When Draco awoke, Narcissa was gone. He Apparated back to Grimmauld Place.

**A/N: **A little depression never hurt either, agree do you not? No, you probably don't, but I have a pretty nice ending in mind. And I think I'll continue in one last story. Don't be irritated with me, please.


	15. Chapter 15: New Beginnings

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter

**Chapter 15: New Beginnings**

The entire house was numb. For the first time in ages, Draco was in tears.

Parvati was thrilled to have him back.

"My mother is dead! My father is a Death Eater! This sounds so sappy, but how much of my family have I lost to the Dark Lord? Professor Dumbledore, can you…?"

"No spell can awake the dead."

Parvati stroked Draco's hand. Harry felt a lump rise in his throat. Ginny cried a little. Ron and Hermione were pale.

Dumbledore did something quite surprising. He smiled.

"She is not dead, Draco."

Draco raised his head, shocked. "And how do you know?"

"Mundungus has been tailing them. He was stationed in the woods in case something had happened, and he is currently following your mother's abductor. He reported just a half-hour ago, and says no harm has come to your mother."

"Yet."

"We must hope. We will find her. The Order has not always been successful, but we are a stronger union this time, and we are better prepared. We will find her."

Draco smiled. A surge of hope rushed to his heart. _Dumbledore is insane, God, is he insane! But still, he is pretty helpful. I'm hoping, then. _

Dumbledore left the room to contact the other members of the Order at the Riddle House, leaving Draco, Parvati, Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and Crookshanks in the room.

No one said anything. Then…

Ron cleared his throat.

"Ahem—I know this is a pretty bad time for—well, anyway, to get to the point, Hermione, would you—would you—would…"

He paused.

"Would you—like a cup of tea?"

Hermione looked perplexed. "Sure, why not?"

"NONONONO! That's not what I meant!"

The room was confused.

"Would you marry me?"

Hermione looked at him and blushed. She babbled away, "Oh! Well—I—no, couldn't possibly—marriage—unity—you-wow, I couldn't—want—really want—oh, God, I, no way, no, no, I want—yes. I will."

"Really?"

Which was not the romantic thing to say, but you know Ron.

Ron and Hermione were too busy blushing and looking at each other, to notice that Ginny and Harry were snickering at them.

"Yes, but…"

Ron's heart fell. Was she married already? Oh God. It was Harry. He'd kill him. No he wouldn't, he was his best friend.

"…Please do not slick your hair down, wear cowboy boots, or do anything ridiculous to make yourself more manly."

Ron agreed. Of course they went through all the sappy, romantic stuff before they left the room (and in front of everyone), all the kissing and hugging and crying…you get it.

Ron's heart soared. _I've still got it!_

Draco eyed Parvati, who was excitedly chattering with Ginny and Hermione. _Maybe soon, when we can find Mother…_

Harry was eyeing Ginny. _Maybe…_


End file.
